


Lessons In Speaking Family

by phlintandsteel



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Also headcanon that Victor never gets over the fact that Yuuri beat him to proposing, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, I just love Yurio as their angry kitten son ok?, M rating for thematic content in places, M/M, My headcanon is that Victor's wealthy as shit but never talks about it, Unconditional Love, i'm not crying you're crying, nothing graphic, this is less 'how to parent?!' and more 'how to son??!?'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 12:13:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9490541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phlintandsteel/pseuds/phlintandsteel
Summary: Victor had started it.  It was his fault in the end then, though he knew Yuuri took responsibility as well.  And he couldn't even blame it on being so ridiculously, goddamn in love with his husband that he sometimes got the urge to adopt every cute little thing in sight to increase their family.No, this stretched back farther than that.  Back to the empty halls and cavernous rooms of his own childhood.  Back to the beginnings of loneliness and of the few things he purposefully lets himself forget.And now Yurio, strong, fierce, Yurio, was sobbing against him with a startling intensity, and it was all Victor's fault.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was originally inspired by a fluffy, adorable web comic where Yurio slips and calls Victor 'dad' to his own mortification... But then for some reason I decided to listen to the Yuri on Ice FS song while writing and it turned out all full of feels and shit and... Oops?
> 
> Disclaimers: I know nothing about the legal systems in other countries, so I made most of that shit up. Also, I don't have a twitter so my knowledge of exactly how it works is spotty at best?... Just, you know, it's a fanfic, so, suspend your disbelief, all ye who enter here, etc, etc.

**2017**

 

Yuuri and Victor were taking a rare opportunity to rest in the midst of their hectic schedules. Victor sat on the couch while he checked his phone, Makkachin snuggled into the side of him. His free hand rubbed haphazardly at Yuuri's foot in his lap. The other man was sprawled on his back listening to the music Phichit had just sent him that would be for his friend's next routine.

 

Victor had a reminder pop up on his phone that he didn't remember setting. His brow furrowed slightly.

 

“Ah, did you set this?” he asked, showing the screen to Yuuri.

 

_Appt 2moro @ 10am, Don't forget!!!_

 

Yuuri smiled fondly at his husband.

 

“Hai, a few weeks ago you said you made us an appointment to meet with your lawyers now that we're married. After I set myself a reminder I made you _three_ ” Yuuri teased.

 

“I totally forgot!” Victor reached down to grab Yuuri's hand, bringing his ring up to kiss. It was a gesture he'd made a habit of continuing. “Thank you for taking such good care of me” he smiled back just as fondly.

 

“Always” Yuuri replied, sitting up so he could return the gesture. Their hands remained clasped for a moment while they stared at each other with matching, stupidly in love expressions.

 

The front door opened with no knock while they were sitting there, but it didn't phase either of them. Yurio came in unannounced, dropping his bag on the floor and scowling at them.

 

“Are you two seriously sitting here by yourselves just staring into each other's eyes? The fuck?... Your neighbors are going to get diabetes from all this sweet shit” Yurio grumbled, heading for the kitchen. The growing teen was likely raiding their fridge after practice. Yurio had grown a couple inches since Yuuri had first met him but he remained lean and willowy over all.

 

Victor's fondness automatically increased in radius to include Yurio whenever he was around, which was often. Yuuri rolled his eyes at the comment, but broke into a grin right afterward.

 

“Do you want to be kissing when he comes back through?” he asked his husband mischievously.

 

Victor smiled and pulled him closer.

 

“Love, you have the best ideas...”

 

…

 

“Ugh, you guys are getting grosser by the minute! Can it already!” Yurio made fake gagging sounds from behind them.

 

They broke apart giggling, unable to hold the kiss through it.

 

Yurio shot them glares occasionally from the armchair as he switched on their TV. Both men went back to their phones and music, not minding the invasion. When dinner time rolled around, Yurio was still in the living room, only laying on the floor instead.

 

“If you're staying, you should come help set the table” Yuuri called from the kitchen.

 

“Yeah, yeah...” Yurio sat up and slouched for a moment, then climbed onto his feet with none of the grace of the dancer that he was.

 

Victor raised an eyebrow from the couch.

 

“Everything alright?”

 

“Just tired” Yurio shrugged.

 

Victor gave a small hum to acknowledge that he'd heard, but he didn't press. Makkachin followed the boy into the kitchen and Victor decided he better get in gear as well. Yuuri's nights to cook were a treat that he didn't want to be late for.

 

When Yakov began calling Yurio with _friendly_ reminders that it was a school night, and his curfew was in 20 minutes, and Lilia will _roast him alive_ if he's yawning during practice, the Ice Tiger of Russia finally took off and left them to their own devices.

 

“I've been thinking, we should get a car!” Victor turned and said as they washed up the dinner dishes.

 

“What?... A car? Why would we need one? Neither of us even have a license...” Yuuri asked, handing him another soapy plate. Victor's apartment in St. Petersburg was fairly centrally located. It wasn't that far to walk to the skating rink, shopping district, or even bus stop if needed.

 

“Ah, well... I thought it would be fun to get away to the countryside sometimes. And it would be nice to just have around, don't you think?” Victor told him.

 

Yuuri looked at his husband as the man rinsed and dried, knowing he awaited a text of arrival from Yurio each time the boy took off through the dark St. Petersburg streets.

 

“Sure. It could be useful. Whatever you want” Yuuri replied.

 

Victor beamed and started making plans to check out dealerships on their way back from the appointment tomorrow.

 

“I'm pretty sure you have to have your license first, Vitya” Yuuri reminded him, “Or else how would you get it home?”

 

Victor just laughed at himself for a moment before raising a finger and sending a wink Yuuri's way.

 

“We can still go window shopping!”

 

~*~

 

The next day at their appointment, Yuuri's hand was starting to cramp from signing his name so many times. It didn't help that he'd had to learn it in Cyrillic for the legal forms and wasn't used to the motions. Thankfully he trusted Victor to give him summarized translations on everything, or else they'd have needed multiple _days_ for him to pick his way through the reading.

 

“Oh, the St. Petersburg Trust for the Arts? I've heard of that...” Yuuri exclaimed, latching onto something familiar in the sea of foreign forms and procedures. “That's one of your sponsors, right?” he asked Victor.

 

Victor blushed, turning an adorable shade of pink, and hesitated over his next words.

 

“Yes, that's the one” he responded.

 

Well, after a display like that, Yuuri certainly wasn't going to let it go at face value.

 

“Why do I need to sign anything regarding that? They're your sponsor, not mine...”

 

“Ah, it's not about the sponsorship... It's to add you to the board of trustees?” Victor informed him, fiddling with the pen in his fingers and not meeting Yuuri's eyes.

 

Yuuri stared at him for a moment, letting everything slot into place in his head.

 

“So, you control the trust that funds your skating sponsorship?...” Yuuri asked outright, finding that awfully narcissistic.

 

Victor sighed, wincing a bit at Yuuri's wording.

 

“It's not entirely...” he set the pen down, resting his hands on his knees instead, “You know my parents passed quite young. This was a recommendation made to me at the time...for tax advantages of course, to form a charitable trust from part of the estate...”

 

“Oh, so, you fund a lot of other athletes? Or I guess, artists in general?” Yuuri asked, thinking he understood where Victor's embarrassment was originating from now. If he was funding other competitors without them knowing it, that would certainly be blush worthy.

 

“Not...not _a lot_ ” Victor blushed even further, “But it's not just _me_ ” he added in his defense.

 

Since Victor wasn't forthcoming about the information, Yuuri flipped through the pages of the document, wondering if there would be a list within. His Russian was at least good enough to pick out the word 'sponsor' or its variations in the text if he skimmed it.

 

Three pages in, under the list of his duties as a trustee, there were two line items and _only_ two line items.

 

_Evaluation of continued sponsorship of Victor Nikiforov._

 

_Evaluation of continued sponsorship of Yuri Plisetsky._

 

Yuuri's heart immediately melted at reading it. He looked back to Victor, who was examining the wood grain of the desk they sat at. He made no indication that his examination would ever be complete.

 

“Victor” he said in Japanese, “Eyes on me.”

 

His husband's eyes widened and he faced Yuuri right away, pink still tinting his cheeks.

 

Yuuri gave him a knowing look. To his credit, Victor didn't try to dodge the question anymore.

 

“When it was set up, they told me I had to have at least one other recipient to comply with the law... I was nineteen... I had no interest in spending the time to find anyone more than was needed” Victor confessed, “And then after that, well, it was just something I didn't need to worry about...so... I always just left it as it was.”

 

Victor didn't break Yuuri's gaze during the entire speech. Not wanting to get too emotional in front of the lawyers, Yuuri simply said “You're a good man, Vitya” in a low voice. He brushed his fingers over the back of Victor's hand. Then he turned to the last page and signed the paperwork. Victor smiled, pleased, and they both went back to business.

 

Afterward, in the showroom of their local Toyota dealership, Yuuri sat in the passenger seat and watched Victor play excitedly with _all_ the features the luxury model offered.

 

“The board doesn't actually meet” Victor said, seemingly out of nowhere as he swiveled the side mirrors. “I mean, it could, if you wanted to change anything...”

 

“No. I'm fine with it how it is” Yuuri assured him.

 

“He doesn't know...” Victor added quietly, fiddling with the controls for the heated seats next.

 

Yuuri pulled Victor's hand off the gear shift and gave it a squeeze in understanding. Victor squeezed back, and that was that.

 

 

**2018**

 

“Yuuuuuuri” Victor sing-songed as he skated over, “We've been working so hard lately, we should take a vacation before the season starts.”

 

“Um, ok?” Yuuri said cautiously, knowing to hold out for more detail at this point.

 

“To Australia!” Victor concluded.

 

“Australia?!? Why on earth would you want to go there?” Yuuri asked, fighting an amused chuckle.

 

Victor skated closer, pressing their chests close and curving his arms around Yuuri's back.

 

“Haven't you heard the news today?” he asked, voice sweet and sultry.

 

“News? Oh, you mean that they legalized... But what does that have to do with us? We're already married” Yuuri wanted to know, perplexed.

 

“Because I want to marry you again” Victor told him softly, love reflecting in his eyes.

 

Yuuri drew in a shocked breath, feeling like the world was suddenly tilting away from him.

 

“I- V-Victor” he stuttered.

 

“Please say yes” Victor whispered, pressing their foreheads together.

 

There was nothing else in Yuuri's world at that moment except the depth of emotion in his husband's eyes.

 

“Yes” he breathed out.

 

Victor immediately picked him up with a noise of triumph, twirling Yuuri around in a circle on the ice.

 

“You geezers can stop being lame any time now. We're in the middle of practice” Yurio said as he skated by.

 

“Ah! Yurio! You'll be my best man again, yes?” Victor asked as he lowered his husband back onto his feet.

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Yurio stopped in mid-glide.

 

“We're going to Australia to get married!” Victor declared happily.

 

Yurio blinked at them a few times, his scowl seeming to deepen in between each one. “You're going to retake vows? You do realize you idiots have only been married for like a year and a half...”

 

Yuuri had the grace to blush from where he was still pressed against the taller man's chest, but Victor just sighed happily and nodded vigorously.

 

Looking back and forth between the two, Yurio finally huffed and said, “Fine, but we're getting separate flights. I don't want to be seen in public with you losers for that long.”

 

“I guess I should see if Phichit can make it too...” Yuuri thought out loud.

 

Yakov started yelling from the sidelines for Victor to stop goofing off and get back to work, interrupting the moment. Yurio picked his routine up and danced away from them without needing to be told. His hair was longer now with having let it grow out for the past few years. It streamed behind him in its ponytail. Victor ran a hand through his own locks, sighing at their continued thinning.

 

“Will you still want to marry me again when I'm bald?” he asked, burying his head in Yuuri's shoulder and completely ignoring his coach.

 

“Yes, Vitya, even bald” Yuuri said soothingly, running his fingers into the short hairs at the back of Victor's neck. Victor kissed the side of his neck with a quick thankful peck, and then slowly backed away.

 

“I'm checking out flights on our water break” he said decisively, eyes twinkling.

 

Yuuri smiled.

 

A week later they finally returned from their whirlwind retaking of vows, Victor having declared they needed to take at least a _mini_ honeymoon in celebration. Yurio refused to stay the entire time, since he knew the couple would spend way too much of it in their hotel room anyway. He did partake in an epic selfie war with Phichit and two Australian gymnasts they just happened to run into before leaving though.

 

Yuuri didn't get around to seeing any of the pictures from it until they were back. He was a little distracted, ok?

 

“You look so much like Victor did at that age” Yuuri commented, scrolling through Yurio's phone. Startlingly, no scathing reply met his ears. Yuuri looked up from the screen in surprise at the normally caustic teen. Yurio rolled his eyes.

 

“What? Victor was _the best_ back then. You _should_ be comparing me to him” he said haughtily.

 

“Oh, only _back then_?” Victor said with a mock sweetness as he came out of the locker rooms.

 

Yurio didn't balk at his presence though. He faced Victor dead on and told him, “You'll be lucky to be able to keep up with me during the Grand Prix this year, _pops_.”

 

Victor sputtered and put a hand over his heart.

 

“Yurio! How _dare_ you imply that I'm old enough to be your father! And after everything I've done for you!” he wailed.

 

So of course, _pops_ became Yurio's new favorite nickname for Victor, though he made an effort to still throw in an _old man_ and _geezer_ every once in a while. Victor had already come to grips with his age and decided this year of competition would be his last, so he wasn't truly offended.

 

However, the first time Victor tried to explain that Yurio should follow his _wise_ advice, the blond burst into near hysterical laughter. Yuuri stopped beside them to get a closer look at his husband's pout, finding it adorable.

 

“I'm open to your wisdom, coach” Yuuri teased gently while Yurio caught his breath. The pout left Victor's face and slowly a grin replaced it.

 

Yurio made a retching sound.

 

“Keep that kinky shit off the ice you morons!” he practically shouted at them before taking off to the other side of the rink.

 

“He thinks _that's_ kinky?...” Victor mused.

 

“He's seventeen” Yuuri reminded him, skating closer.

 

Victor made a 'hmm' noise and shook his head at Yurio's retreating back.

 

Yuuri placed a single finger under Victor's chin to turn it towards him, since he wasn't wearing a tie at practice.

 

“Eyes on me, _coach_ ” Yuuri winked at him.

 

Victor's eyes brightened as he watched Yuuri skate into position. They didn't leave him once throughout the routine.

 

 

**2019**

 

The spare room in Victor and Yuuri's apartment had originally been dubbed a 'guest' bedroom. The terms of Yurio's training dictated he had to live with the other underage athletes at the rink's facilities, but he'd spent the majority of his free time over at their place for years. Usually because he claimed to miss Makkachin.

 

When Yurio's beanies, extra sneakers, and leopard print shirts began accumulating in the spare space, neither adult had said anything. Yuuri vaguely wondered if they would wake up next month after Yurio turned eighteen and discover they had a new roommate. Not that he minded.

 

“Yuuri, love, have you seen the Japanese dictionary?” Victor called out from across the apartment.

 

“I think Yurio was the last one to use it?” Yuuri yelled back, not leaving the kitchen. He could hear footsteps over the floor and then the opening of a door. If he hadn't been in the middle of preparing dinner he'd have just gotten it for him, but he knew Victor was capable of hunting it up himself. A few moments later Victor walked into the kitchen.

 

“Was it in Yurio's room?” Yuuri asked as he glanced over his shoulder. Victor was carrying the missing book, so that question was answered. Yuuri was just in time to see a content expression settle on his husband's face though.

 

“Yes, it was in there...”

 

Yuuri soaked in the sight of a pleased Victor for a moment before asking, “Why do you need it anyway?”

 

“Oh, that punk from Okinawa is insulting you on twitter, so I'm going to suggest he kindly go shove is head up his own asshole if he thinks he's so much more flexible than you. I figured you would probably be less than willing to translate the difficult parts for me...” Victor said as he sat down at the kitchen table with his phone and the dictionary.

 

“That Hirai kid? He's like, ten years old ” Yuuri gave Victor a disbelieving look and then pinched his brow when Victor was too absorbed to catch it. Hirai was actually Yurio's age, but Yuuri was trying to exaggerate a bit and get Victor to realize he didn't need to get involved in childish arguments. He normally didn't, come to think of it.

 

“Ha! Yurio already told him to go eat a dick” Victor exclaimed, pulling up the thread with a grin.

 

“Oh my god. You two are going to get yourselves in trouble” Yuuri groaned.

 

“I'm retired already, what are they going to do to _me_?” Victor responded, never taking his eyes off his phone.

 

“You're still my coach. That's an official capacity, in case you've forgotten” Yuuri reminded him.

 

“Hmm... And as your coach, it's my duty to defend your honor, darling” Victor flashed him a smile.

 

“I don't think that's how that works...” Yuuri said with a roll of his eyes.

 

“What would you have me do then?” Victor asked, setting his phone down briefly and raising an eyebrow.

 

“I don't know, how about just tell him to save it for the ice?”

 

The fondness returned to Victor's face, this time directed at Yuuri.

 

“You are too pure for this world, my love” Victor told him.

 

With a sigh, Yuuri finished cooking and turned the burner off on the stove.

 

“Do you not think I can beat him?” he questioned as he faced his husband.

 

“What?! Of course you can” Victor replied, slightly outraged.

 

“Then what gives?” Yuuri asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don't normally lower yourself to responding to people who are just talking shit.”

 

Victor looked at him more seriously for a moment.

 

“...The insult against your flexibility was not the only, _slur_ , in his tweet” Victor admitted carefully.

 

A slightly startled expression flitted over Yuuri's face, but it was quickly replaced by determination. “Really?... What does it say?” he asked.

 

Victor checked the resolve in Yuuri's eyes one more time before he went ahead and answered. “He said ' _no spread eagle for Katsuki this year...guess even fags lose their flexibility eventually_ ', as if anybody cares about his retched little opinions” Victor said the words coldly, as if they were extremely distasteful to him and he didn't want them on his tongue for a moment longer than necessary.

 

Yuuri could tell from his tone that Victor was rather upset underneath the lighthearted facade of insult trading. Honestly, it was upsetting to Yuuri too. Enough so that he decided that backtracking on his previous plea for rationality wasn't out of the question. He stalked over to his husband, who was still frowning at his phone after reading the original tweet. Hooking a foot around the leg of Victor's chair, Yuuri jerked it to face him, stepping up into the V of Victor's knees.

 

While Victor blinked in shock, Yuuri leaned down and spoke a string of less than polite Japanese into his husband's ear, translating the intent, if not the exact phrase he'd wanted to use. One of Victor's hands began stroking up the back of Yuuri's thigh as he did.

 

“You know what would be even better? If you sat in my lap while I type that out...” Victor smirked, “For the symbolism.”

 

“You're incorrigible” Yuuri laughed as he straddled his husband in the chair. After Victor sent off the reply, they stayed both seated in the same chair for the next few minutes, trading innuendos about Yuuri's flexibility. They only pulled apart when Victor's phone chirped with a notification.

 

“Ah, now Chris has joined in too” Victor grinned.

 

“Oh god, do I even want to know where he went with it?” Yuuri asked.

 

“It's actually quite good” Victor mused, “He used English though... I'm pretty sure his Japanese repertoire is only swear words... ' _I've seen the light, I'll now only use the same moves in every routine every year to prove my manliness_ ' … Too bad we didn't think of that one” Victor mused.

 

“Well, in our defense, we weren't trying very hard” Yuuri sighed. As much as he didn't want to get involved in a spiral of name calling on the internet, he was warmed to see his friends and family standing up for him.

 

Yurio burst through the front door all of a sudden, eyes in a rage and hair flying messily.

 

“Katsudon!” he yelled.

 

“We're in here” Yuuri called from the kitchen, not moving out of Victor's lap.

 

“You're still answering to that?...” Victor teased him softly so Yurio wouldn't hear.

 

Before Yuuri had a chance to say anything back, Yurio skidded around the corner clutching his phone.

 

“Oi, Phichit says you're not answering your phone, and he wants to know how to say 'incomprehensible jizz trumpet' in Japanese.”

 

Yuuri buried his face in Victor's shoulder after that and refused to come out.

 

By the next morning there were thousands of comments on the tag, mostly by Yuuri's irate fans in other time zones. Victor smiled to himself as he read through some of them, choosing the best ones to share aloud. They ranged from people jumping on the bandwagon to insult Hirai in the most complicated way possible, to those praising Yuuri's ability, and even a few commenting on how quickly Victor and Yurio had activated the “Katsuki defense squad”. That one in particular made Victor grin.

 

“This one guy is pretty funny” Yuuri said as the three of them sat around the breakfast table. “He posted multiple times... ' _Don't Hirai and Katsuki compete in L.A. this year? I can't wait for Katsuki to show him up on the ice!!!_ ' then right after that he posted ' _How I Got Punched In The Face By A Russian Skating Legend, a poem by Hirai Ran_ '” Yuuri chuckled.

 

“Beka does say I've got a pretty good right hook” Yurio commented in between bites of his cereal.

 

Victor was in the middle of bringing Yuuri's ring to his lips when he paused, mid-motion.

 

“I'm pretty sure they were referring to _me_ ” Victor said, shooting Yurio an incredulous look.

 

“Whatever, we don't want you to hurt yourself, do we _old man_?” Yurio shot back, “Besides, I've met this ass hat before, I could totally take him.”

 

Victor frowned and opened his mouth to reply, causing Yuuri to immediately stand up and spread his arms in a 'cutting you off' gesture.

 

“No one is _punching_ anyone” he declared firmly. “And you know what? We need to get away from these phones for a while.”

 

Yurio looked at him in horror, while Victor looked contrite.

 

“Just, for a few hours or something, ok? Please” Yuuri asked.

 

Victor and Yurio didn't even try to hide the protective look that passed between them. They both nodded in agreement.

 

“Let's play Monopoly!” Yurio said suddenly, looking inexplicably younger in that moment. Yuuri could already see Victor's face softening and getting ready to acquiesce to whatever would keep Yurio's happy smile intact.

 

“Um, how about Scrabble? _Hours_ , guys, not _days_ ” Yuuri spoke up quickly, “Besides we have practice this afternoon anyway.”

 

“Ok. But you cheaters have to stick to one language only then” Yurio insisted, wagging a finger at Victor.

 

“I promise” said Victor solemnly, placing a hand over his heart. He spoke the most languages fluently and partially out of all of them.

 

“Pfft, maybe if you swore on katsudon's heart, then I'd believe you” Yurio said as he stood up to clear his bowl. While Victor was trying to look wounded and failing, Yuuri scooped up all their phones from the table and set them on the kitchen counter instead. He didn't want them _off_ , just in case there was an emergency or something.

 

Victor helped him clean the rest of the table while Yurio went to grab the game. It always put Victor in a good mood to see Yurio happy, and Yuuri had a feeling the unexpected display a moment ago would carry his husband's mood for quite a while, in spite of the internet.

 

“Love you” Yuuri uttered a soft reinforcement, pecking Victor on the cheek as he went by.

 

“I love you too, darling” Victor replied, already smiling.

 

“Alright, we're using Russian for less cheating and I'm going first” Yurio declared as he came back.

 

“Sounds good” both Victor and Yuuri said at the same time. Yuuri half expected the boy to make some sort of comment about them needing to stop being “creepy” or whatever, but it never came. Yurio just rolled his eyes and began setting up the board. He still had a small smile on his face, almost like he didn't even know he was doing it, so they counted that as a win.

 

**2020**

 

“V-Victor?...” Yurio's voice cracked in a way that the older man hadn't ever heard, not even during the throes of puberty. Instead of telling Yurio off for calling his phone at 3am like he had originally planned, Victor sat up immediately in bed.

 

“Are you ok?” he asked, voice tense.

 

“I- Not really? I just...” Yurio choked up, leaving only staggered breathing on the line, like he was trying not to cry.

 

“Where are you?” Victor asked, his concern ratcheting up several notches. He put the call on speaker so he could begin throwing on his clothes.

 

“I don't know? … I, went with this guy to a party... Shit. I was hoping you could come get me?... But I don't even know where the fuck I am...such a fucking screw up... ...Sorry...” Yurio sounded like he'd definitely been drinking, his voice getting smaller and smaller the longer he talked. Victor's heart squeezed with fear in his chest.

 

“We can find him with the car” Yuuri spoke up, seeing the panic on his husband's face even in the dimness of the moonlight. The call had woken him up too and hearing the edge in Victor's voice had sent adrenalin coursing through his veins right away.

 

Victor looked confused for a moment, then realization dawned on his face. Their car's GPS could locate Yurio's phone, since it had been connected to it as a registered device before. Yuuri had discovered the feature while trying to figure out what lot to park in at the mall while picking Yurio up once.

 

“Ok, Yurio, we're coming to get you” Victor told him.

 

Silence.

 

“Yurio?” Victor said louder, his own voice wavering slightly. The tension was enough to make Yuuri pause involuntarily in his own haste to dress, but he quickly shook it off. He and Victor practically ran through the apartment and out the door.

 

“Yurio” Victor said again, not a question, but a demand.

 

There was a retching noise that didn't sound fake at all on the line.

 

“Hi, um, Yuri's throwing up, so, he shoved his phone at me?” a feminine voice said.

 

“Where are you, where is this party?” Victor asked.

 

“I don't know the exact address, it's on Little Bird Boulevard, by the recycling center...” she told them as they climbed in the car. Yuuri took the phone from Victor so he could drive, then started going through the dash menu to ping Yurio's cell.

 

“Please,” Victor asked loudly to make sure it would carry over the speaker, “Stay with him until we get there.”

 

“I will” she said firmly, “He's ok, I think. I mean, he doesn't look drugged or anything, just kind of wasted and upset.”

 

Yuuri blanched, not liking the story that the snippets of information they had were forming into. He didn't say anything himself though. He didn't want to accidentally talk over Victor or miss anything that was being said. The throwing up had stopped in the background, but they weren't sure if that was because Yurio was done or if the phone was just too far away to hear it anymore.

 

“Can you put Yurio back on?” Victor asked, driving at speed.

 

“I can try...” she said. “Hey, Yuri? Can you talk? Your Dad's really worried about you...” they heard her asking him. Yuuri glanced at Victor's face, illuminated by the light of the dash, and saw tears streaking down it.

 

“You here yet?” Yurio's voice asked with a hopeful bleariness. He wasn't slurring too badly, but he certainly wasn't coherent.

 

“Almost, Yurio, we're just a few blocks away” Victor assured him. According to Yuuri's view of the GPS it was more like six, but the way Victor was driving it wouldn't be much of a stretch.

 

“Sorry” Yurio's voice wavered, and he drew in a large, shuddering breath.

 

“It's ok, it's ok, we're almost there. Just keep breathing, just stay awake until we get there, ok?” Victor instructed.

 

“Ok,” Yurio said, his breathing still heavy, “Ok.”

 

Victor continued to talk soothingly to him until they pulled up to the house. He double parked in the middle of the street since there were no spots open in front. Both of them jumped out of the car without a second thought, heading for the house with determination. Kids loitering outside edged away from them and no one hampered their entrance.

 

“Yurio!” Victor shouted as soon as they got inside. “Yurio!”

 

A hand shot up from the back of the room, near a large staircase. It obviously wasn't Yurio's, but hopefully it belonged to the girl they had spoken to. Victor had taken his phone back from Yuuri but there was too much noise to hear if Yurio was trying to direct them or not. As they got closer, Victor could see Yurio slumped on the floor at the foot of the stairwell, with a girl somewhere around his own age next to him, waving them over.

 

“Yurio!” Victor made a line for him, relief filling his voice. The girl took a step back as they approached, like she wasn't sure if there was going to be trouble to stay out of.

 

Victor ignored her completely and dropped to his knees, pulling Yurio into a tight hug. Yuuri was right beside him in a fraction of a second, and Yurio's arm snuck out of Victor's embrace to include him as well. Victor rocked him back and forth, asking thickly in Russian if he'd been hurt, if he was ok. Yurio just cried, seemingly unable to answer.

 

“Ok, let's get him out of here” Yuuri said to Victor after a few minutes. “We can talk in the car, this is obviously too much for him” he added, giving his husband a pointed look.

 

“Can you walk?” Victor asked Yurio. The blond just shook his head, still clinging to Victor.

 

“Get the doors for us, my love?” Victor asked Yuuri, scooping Yurio up in one smooth motion. Yuuri nodded, stepping back so Victor could stand. He glanced around and saw the girl was still standing there. Yuuri put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze.

 

“Thank you” he said sincerely as they were leaving.

 

“I hope he'll be ok” she nodded with a sad smile.

 

“We'll make sure of it” Yuuri told her.

 

Once they were outside, Yuuri helped Victor get Yurio into the backseat and told him to hand over the keys.

 

“You stay with him, I'll drive.”

 

Victor nodded, going around to the other door. “Don't drive away yet” he instructed. Inside, he helped Yurio get his seat belt on and made sure he still had his phone. Yurio's tears had abated somewhat, but it hadn't eased the look of murder on Victor's face.

 

“Did someone at this party hurt you, Yurio?” Victor demanded to know.

 

Yurio's head was tipped back against the seat, so the scowl he gave ended up being directed at the ceiling.

 

“I'm a fucking, … gold medalist. … Don't fuck with me...” he trailed off, closing his eyes.

 

“Yurio” Victor said, snapping his attention back. “Someone tried to though?”

 

“... Yeah … He,” Yurio shook his head, “I kicked him, in the fucking balls... Dislocated his shoulder...”

 

“And then what?” Victor asked, softer this time.

 

“And then,” Yurio said, head wobbling as he tried to look at Victor, “He ran away, like, a...like a little bitch.”

 

Yuuri let go of the breath he had been holding subconsciously, feeling a few tears escape down his own cheeks. The sound of it made Yurio look at the driver's seat, almost as if he'd forgotten anyone else was there.

 

“Well,” Yuuri said, his voice choked with emotion, “That's what he gets for messing with the Ice Tiger of Russia.”

 

Yurio smiled shakily, pointing a finger at him in agreement, “Yeah! That's right!” His improved mood didn't last long though. He slouched forward in the seat almost immediately, resting his head in his hands. He didn't seem to be actively crying again, but it was a near thing.

 

“Ok” Victor said, putting an arm around him and pulling him close, “Let's go home.”

 

Yurio's hand tightened in Victor's coat as he accepted the hug, bunching it up with an almost desperate tension.

 

“Wan' to go home.”

 

“Ok,” Yuuri said, putting the car in gear, “We're going home.”

 

**2021**

 

“Look, I know. You're an adult. You can, and _should_ , make your own decisions. I'm just telling you, if you drop out of university, you'll regret it later.”

 

**2022**

 

Half the professional figure skaters in the world were gathered together in St. Petersburg, all of them teary eyed in commiseration. Even for all the bodies crammed into their apartment, it was still so hushed that it was almost silent.

 

Victor knelt with Yuuri on one side and Yurio on the other, both supporting him as he lit the incense on Makkachin's shrine for the first time. His hand shook so badly he was having a hard time getting it to catch. Yuuri reached out and steadied him, holding on until a flame appeared at the end of the stick. Victor leaned forward and blew it out, making a little curl of smoke start rising properly.

 

“Thank you” he said quietly.

 

**2023**

 

“And with that performance, ladies and gentlemen, Yuri Katsuki just entered the record books as the oldest person to ever land a quad in competition. Just amazing. Seeing his energy out there, at thirty one years old, it kind of makes you wonder... What does he know that we don't? Am I right, Greg?”

 

“Absolutely, Alina. Many people expected him to retire last year, and rumors have swirled around him throughout this season too. But when you see a performance like that, I mean, it's almost shocking. You know he deserves to be here. My only question now is, will he beat out long time rival Plisetsky for the gold?”

 

“Honestly, with Plisetsky's slip in his Free Skate earlier, I think Katsuki's pretty much got this one in the bag. _My_ only question is, what flavor of lip gloss is coach Nikiforov wearing this time?”

 

“Let's check the live poll on ISU's website to see what the fans think, Alina. Well, as you can see on the screen, Mango is this year's favorite, followed closely by Strawberry, then Pomegranate and Cherry.”

 

“Ok, here we go, Greg, Katsuki's scores are being announced now. Let's cut down to the kiss and cry.”

 

On the screen, a final tally of 308.80 rested under Yuuri's name, making a couple tears of joy slip down his face. Victor beamed and pulled him in, wiping gently at the tracks of moisture left behind. Then they kissed wholeheartedly to the deafening applause, having beat Yurio by less than a point for the third time in his life. When they finally broke apart, Yuuri turned to the camera and mouthed the word “Strawberry”, throwing a wink in too for good measure.

 

Yurio stood off to the side out of the picture, recording the moment on his cell phone. He knew that nothing less than perfection was going to get gold against Yuuri, and that as soon as he'd made that slip he'd relegated himself to silver.

 

“Hey Beka, want to see me break twitter?” he said casually, grinning as he hit post with a link to the video.

 

“What are you up to?” the somber man asked, resting his arm around Yurio's waist and leaning in for a better look at the phone's screen.

 

On his account the latest post from icetiger01 read, “ _CONFIRMED: Strawberry for Katsuki Yuri's last GPF. And he won gold or some shit too. No one can stop the tiger now!!! (congrats katsudon)_ ”

 

“They won't be upset that you stole their thunder?” Otabek asked, completely ignoring the reference to there not being any competition left for Yurio.

 

“Na, he's about to drop it live right now too, they said it was fine” Yurio happily watched as the press began tripping all over themselves at Yuuri's declaration of retirement. “He's got the right idea anyway, better to go out on top.”

 

“Hmm” Otabek made a non-committal sound.

 

“What? You were injured, that's totally different” Yurio frowned.

 

“If you say so” Otabek replied. There was just the tiniest hint of a smile in his voice though, so Yurio knew he was kidding. Yurio gave his arm a pat where it was resting around him, that being the most PDA either of them were really comfortable with.

 

“Do you have that stuff I asked you to bring down?” Yurio turned to him expectantly, feeling enough time had gone by since the announcement for the reporters to get in their legitimate questions. He didn't care about interrupting the inane banter that usually continued long past the point it should.

 

“I do,” Otabek paused, “Suddenly your request makes a lot more sense now.”

 

“And yet you went along with it anyway, not knowing” Yurio smirked.

 

“Well, you asked” Otabek replied fondly, retrieving it out of his bag. Yurio quickly pulled the custom t-shirt on over his competition outfit and tore open the bag of glitter Otabek handed him.

 

Without saying a word he walked over behind Victor and Yuuri, who were still in the kiss and cry, and began sprinkling them with the glitter.

 

“W-What?” Yuuri was so confused he stopped mid-interview. He looked around and saw Yurio behind them, wearing a shirt that said “LAST YURI STANDING”. As soon as they noticed him though, Yurio twirled away before they could comment.

 

Yuuri laughed joyously, still relieved that Yurio had taken his decision to finally retire so well. When he looked back to Victor, the man was staring at him with the kind of unabashed adoration that Yuuri would never quite get used to. It made him blush, which only intensified the look on Victor's face.

 

Yuuri didn't look away though.

 

Victor brought a hand up to run through Yuuri's glitter strewn hair, wonderment in every move.

 

“Marry me, _solnyshko_ ” he whispered, tracing a thumb over the blush on Yuuri's cheek.

 

Yuuri put a hand on his stomach, feeling like the bottom was dropping out of it.

 

“Yes, Vitya. Anytime. Always” he replied, tearing up for real this time. Victor hugged him tightly, threading his fingers through the back of Yuuri's hair. Yuuri cried into his shoulder, face hidden from the prying cameras.

 

“You're too good to me” Victor said, choking over the emotion as well.

 

Seeing they needed an opening to escape the media circus, Yurio popped back in front of the cameras and said, “Are you kidding me? It'll be like their fourth time getting married! To each other. AGAIN. It's like they're trying to hit all the continents or something, I swear...”

 

Victor slipped away with Yuuri tucked under his arm, headed for the locker rooms and a moment of peace.

 

“He's a good kid” Yuuri said once they were out of earshot.

 

“Yes, he really is” Victor agreed.

 

**2024**

 

“Don't you guys ever think about getting another dog?” Phichit asked casually, knowing Yuuri wondered how Victor felt about the issue, but was hesitant to bring it up. Yurio held his breath, waiting to see what would happen, not having had the balls to bring it up either.

 

Victor's brow furrowed thoughtfully, then he smiled.

 

**2025**

 

Yurio put his arm straight up in the air for his finishing pose, fingers splayed wide as the music came to a halt. As hard as his heart was pounding, he couldn't hear it's beating in his ears like normal at the end of a performance. The roar of the crowd drowned out all else. He raised both arms and yelled at the top of his lungs, but he couldn't hear that either.

He turned to the wall, skating toward the opening where Victor and Yuuri were waiting. They were both yelling and clapping like maniacs, and pulled him into a huge hug as soon as he was close enough.

 

“Five rotations! You're out of your mind!!!” Yuuri yelled in order to be heard, laughing and crying at the same time.

 

Victor put his hands on Yurio's shoulders and mouthed, “I'm proud of you.” Or, well, Victor could have been speaking out loud, but the words themselves couldn't reach Yurio's ears. He felt them though. Felt them lodge right inside the place where his chest was still heaving. Yurio threw himself back into the hug, squeezing Victor probably _too_ tight, but whatever.

 

The crowd's indiscriminate screaming began morphing into a chant of “ENCORE! ENCORE!” at a slightly more reasonable decibel level.

 

“Is that even allowed?” Yurio asked.

 

“Who cares!? Get back out there!” Victor told him, beaming from ear to ear.

 

So Yurio went.

 

**2026**

 

“Beka, you're the one who's like, artistic and shit, don't worry. The memory book is a good idea” Yurio argued over the phone as he let himself into Victor and Yuuri's apartment. Since he had conspired with Phichit ahead of time, he knew they weren't home right now. He continued his conversation without pause. “It'll be their ten year anniversary, you know, of the _first_ one, so we have to do something special.”

 

“It was not part of my idea to go breaking and entering” Otabek reminded him.

 

“Please, they gave me the code to the safe a long time ago, it's not as if I'm going to fucking rob them” Yurio rolled his eyes even though his boyfriend couldn't see it. “It'll be fun to have copies of all their marriage certificates in the scrap book. I'm not even going to leave the room with them, I'll just snap some pics and be on my merry ass way” Yurio assured him.

 

Otabek sighed.

 

“It just feels like an invasion of privacy.”

 

“It's not if they _gave me_ the code! I guess if they've changed it that would mean they had something in there they didn't want me to see... Like, I don't know, _sex toys_ or something... But I'll bet you a million euros that they haven't” Yurio said as he flicked on the lights in Victor's office.

 

“Alright, alright, I know there's no reasoning with you once you've made up your mind... Don't forget to take pictures of their medals too, which is what you're supposed to really be there for” Otabek replied.

 

“I will, I've got a whole list of things... Ha! It opened with the same code” Yurio told him smugly, “I'll see you back at the hotel tonight.”

 

“See you then, Yurachka” Otabek said.

 

“Bye, Beka” Yurio said, hitting end call and pulling up his camera app. He hadn't realized how many files and folders were actually in the safe though, so he ended up setting his phone aside for the moment. “They better all be in one fucking place, I'm not wading through ten years of crap...” Yurio muttered to himself as he knelt down in front of the thing.

 

He wondered if he should even bother trying to decipher the filing system, which seemed to consist of folders randomly labeled in both Russian and Japanese... And sorted by no obvious method?... And there were ones stacked haphazardly to the side as well. God, this was a mess.

 

“Hopeless” Yurio commented to himself fondly. The first folder was labeled for birth certificates and passports, which made sense. They probably used them a lot while they were flying around the world getting married 16 gazillion times. You would _think_ the next folder would be their marriage certificates, but no.

 

“Copies of their car insurance policy? Who even keeps this crap?”

 

The next folder was paperwork on Yuuri's international driver's license. Then some more of Yuuri's stuff regarding his passing of their family's onsen to his sister when his parents died... But the forms weren't complete, and his parent's hadn't died?... It must be ready for the future then, Yurio supposed. He stuffed that back away, and reached for the next folder, this time labeled in Russian.

 

“Deeds?” he muttered to himself, setting it aside immediately as a non-starter. He almost did the same with next folder, 'Limited Liability Partnership', but then he remembered Victor telling him that if he ever wanted help setting one up for himself and Otabek, to let him know. It was obvious once he opened it that this was what Victor had done to get around the fact that Russia itself didn't recognize his and Yuuri's marriage. Yurio didn't find any copies of their marriage certificates from the various other countries in it, so he set it aside with a little bit of a sour feeling in his stomach.

 

The next four folders were all marked in English, the prominent ISU acronym to start. Yurio smiled, but set them aside. He knew what forms would be in those already, having all of them himself. Nowhere did the ISU require you to prove if you were married or single, so there'd be no need for certificates.

 

He skipped past the entire sections on advertising contracts, investments, and bank accounts too, for the same reasons. 'Taxes – Russia' and 'Taxes – Japan' both looked like obvious dead ends as well.

 

Then finally, _finally_ he found a folder marked 'Marriage Certificates' in careful Russian, Japanese, and English...with little hearts drawn after each translation.

 

“Fucking saps” Yurio snorted. It had been at least two years since the last time they ran off to retake their vows somewhere, so Yurio supposed this had gotten pushed farther and farther toward the back during that time. There were only a few folders left, which he couldn't help see the names of at this point.

 

'Diplomas' was pretty self explanatory, he knew both Victor and Yuuri had gone to university. The only reason he'd bothered to finish it himself was because of their urging. It was the next folder that really caught his attention though.

 

'St. Petersburg Trust for the Arts'

 

A flash of curiosity went through Yurio, wondering how their support of the great Victor Nikiforov compared to what they had given him...

 

The very last folder was labeled 'Nikiforov Death Certificates/Wills', and hell no was Yurio touching that one...

 

His eyes flicked back to the Trust. They'd sponsored him in-full his entire way through the Junior league. Even in the Senior league, where things got a lot more expensive... Yurio thought about how when he and Otabek made their relationship public knowledge, they had both still been competing, and a few of his boyfriend's sponsors had dropped him... But the St. Petersburg Trust never said anything. Which now that he thought about it, was like, incredible, considering it was a Russian organization.

 

Yurio picked up the folder, flipping through it just to see if any figures happened to jump out at him.

 

It wasn't a number that made him stop and take a closer look, but seeing 'Yuri Katsuki' scribbled at the bottom of a form along with Victor's name. He frowned, because, what? There was no way they had been sponsoring Yuuri too. He went back to the beginning of that stapled-together section, reading from the beginning.

 

Amendment to Board of Trustees.

 

“What?” Yurio said out loud, “Katsudon's Japanese, he can't be...”

 

Words failed him as Yurio read that the only existing member of the Board of Trustees before that had been Victor Nikiforov. He read the list of duties. He wanted to feel angry. He should feel angry about being essentially lied to, right? Anger slipped right through his fingers though, with no way for him to hold onto it. Yurio's chest began to ache, not all that dissimilarly to when Victor had told him he was proud of him.

 

“Fuck” Yurio said weakly, putting a hand over his mouth to try and keep back the sudden ugly noise rising in his throat. It didn't work for more than a few seconds. He dropped the folder, but since he was already sitting on the floor it didn't have far to fall.

 

Once the sobbing started, it felt like slow motion as he collapsed sideways against Victor's desk, curling in on himself. If he'd been more aware of his surroundings, he would have just slid the rest of the way down to the ground. But he wasn't, so he lay in an awkwardly crumpled heap as he cried.

 

Victor had been the one supporting him this entire time. For _decades_. He still got those checks in the mail _right now_ and he had absolutely no need of them. Victor and his stupid constant encouragement. Victor letting him live in his apartment, Victor teaching him to drive, Victor _saving_ him and wanting to kill anyone who had hurt him...

 

Victor assigning him _Agape_ all those years ago. Because he knew Yurio didn't understand it. Because he wanted to help Yurio understand unconditional love.

 

Something inside Yurio broke at that moment, and the only anger he could feel was at himself for only having called Victor 'pops' in joking.

 

Yurio didn't know how long he'd been on the floor. Fits of tears came and went, until he finally ended up in a sort of fugue state, unable to process all the emotion. It could have been hours. It _might_ have been hours. Because all of a sudden there was a poodle sniffing him and whining, and he could hear Yuuri's voice shouting for Victor.

 

“Yurio!? Are you ok? What are you?... Are you alright?” Yuuri kept asking, levering him off the floor. And then Victor was there kneeling beside him too, and Yurio couldn't look away.

 

“Yurachka, talk to us. Are you alright? What happened?” Victor asked, concern filling his voice.

 

“It was you. The whole time. Why would you?...” Yurio said weakly, eyes accusatory and hopeful all at once.

 

Victor glanced at the folders laying around, recognizing the one that had been the catalyst immediately. He slowly placed a hand atop it, but didn't pick it up.

 

“Because I had seen a dozen deserving kids that day, but you were the first that struck such a chord with me. As soon as I saw you, I could tell...you were fighting through the loneliness too” Victor explained. He looked like he wanted to hug Yurio, but wasn't sure if he was allowed in the moment.

 

“I was seven. How the hell could you tell?” Yurio asked.

 

“I was a very lonely seven year old once too” Victor smiled sadly, “I don't think I would have made it, if I hadn't had ballet to pour myself into... I, I just wanted to make sure you got that chan-”

 

Before Victor could finish his sentence, he suddenly had his arms full of a sobbing Yurio. Yuuri leaned over and embraced them both, pouring all the love and affection he could into the hug. Victor clung the tightest though as Yurio's tears continued to pour, because Victor was the one who had started it all.

 

It was his fault in the end then, though he knew Yuuri took responsibility as well. And he couldn't even blame it on being so ridiculously, goddamn in love with his husband that he sometimes got the urge to adopt every cute little thing in sight to increase their family.

 

No, this stretched back farther than that. Back to the empty halls and cavernous rooms of his own childhood. Back to the beginnings of loneliness and of the few things he purposefully lets himself forget.

 

And now Yurio, strong, fierce, Yurio, was sobbing against him with a startling intensity, and it was all Victor's fault.

 

“It's ok, Yurio, it's ok” Victor rubbed his back and just let him cry. Maybe it was because he'd obviously cried before too, but the sobbing didn't last as long as Victor had feared it would. He still held on tight though. He wasn't about to pull away before Yurio was ready.

 

“I don't even remember them” Yurio confessed, sniffling quietly. “I mean, when I think about, parent stuff... It's been you for a long time, ok?” Yurio kept his eyes closed and face muffled against Victor's shirt.

 

Victor smiled.

 

“You are like a son to me, Yurachka. Yuuri and I have never needed another, because we've always had you” Victor told him. “If you wanted, I wouldn't mind... If you called me father... But only if you want to” Victor assured. There was a moment where Victor seemed to be holding his breath, but then Yurio spoke.

 

“What about for Yuuri?” he whispered embarrassingly, cheeks flushing. Yuuri squeezed them extra hard for a moment to show his approval.

 

“If Victor is 'father'... Then you should call me 'dad'. Otherwise, it'll just get confusing” Yuuri offered.

 

Yurio snorted, the parallel not lost on him.

 

“Ok. I can deal with that, I guess” he said after a moment. Victor began crying, but they were obviously tears of joy, so neither of the other men commented on it.

 

“It'll be a nice change from katsudon, actually” Yuuri said, smiling into the lightened mood.

 

“Oh, you'll still be katsudon until the day you die” Yurio corrected, the change in topic seeming to bolster him, “That's the kind of shit you don't ever live down.”

 

“Ah, he has a point, my love” Victor chuckled, eyes full of mirth.

 

“Well, I'm pretty sure that being embarrassed together is a key ingredient for 'family', so we're on the right track” Yuuri responded with a content smile.

 

“Yes” Victor agreed, squeezing them all close, “Yes, we are.”

 

 

 

 

THE END


End file.
